Blinded
by ExeliaWave
Summary: Sean is the most popular guy in District 1's School for Gifted Kids. He's gone from girl to girl every time he blinks. Then he meets Devidah 'Devi' Theroux, the sister of the 49th Hunger Games male tribute. She's different from every girl he's ever met. What happens when fate throws them together? *DISCONTINUED*
1. Chapter 1

"Man," Trey groans longingly, "That is one hot chick." He whistles long, and low.

I nod wistfully, the object of my lust not even bothering to acknowledge my existence.

She's so tiny, she could easily be mistaken as twelve. But she has a depth much deeper than someone twice her age. She looks so young, though, and innocent, but her soft pink lips stretch into such a mischievous smile that it's hard not think that everything is an act. Thick, glossy raven hair frames her sweet, heart-shaped face, and long, dark eyelashes surround her huge hazel eyes. Her skin is the color of caramel, results of those hours working in District 11 before her father moved here. No one knows why, either. Some think that he's fleeing from an awful past, others… I don't want to say it.

She's smart too, training to be a musician, instead of joining the Academy to train for the Hunger Games. I'd be there too if my mom wasn't hysterical with worry. And Trey… he got kicked out. Too many fights. Once he almost broke a kid's neck, on purpose! But, eh, that's how I got so popular. I could harness merciless Trey McKinnon.

She's sitting under a tree today, studiously poring over a gigantic book. There's a rustling above her, and her best friend, Cirani McGoy, falls out of the tree. Devi, Cirani calls her. Short for Devidah.

"Just look at those long legs," Trey groans, "That lush, willowy figure."

Huh? Devi isn't tall. And she most definitely isn't willowy. Everything about her is strong. If you tried to shove her over, she'd stay as straight as a maple tree.

Oh. Trey means Syra, the sexy fake blonde with the ample chest. I hooked up with her last week. Very impatient girl.

Oh, and there's Sue. I got under her shirt three days ago. She wanted a long-term relationship. Apparently her virginity is worth something to her.

Then there's Arita. Met her yesterday in an abandoned shed. Mmm.

But Devi, she's completely different. She's definitely not a one night stand. I want to touch her caramel skin. Stroke her glossy hair. Know that she's mine, and I hers.

I glance over at Trey. I'm shocked that he's already behind a tree, his hand down Syra's uniform skirt. She's giggling, her lips moving across his neck, her hands against his broad chest.

They're going to be rolling around in the grass in just a second.

Gee. Could they be more public?

* * *

**So, there goes that. What do you think? This is the first time I've ever written anything so... sexual? I'm surprised that I actually wrote this. But please, review! Tell me if you like it, if there's something I can add or take away. Please don't laugh at me though.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

I'm running, faster and faster, yet it's not fast enough. They're coming for me, and they never seem to tire. But I do, and I'm rasping as I sprint. Faster, faster. I have to go faster.

"Sean!" Someone screams, his voice so full of fear that I have to stop, to help him.

No, it can't be. It just can't. But… it is.

It's Greg. Greg, my older brother. The one that taught me everything I know. The one that comforted me before the Reaping, the day before my birthday. The one that died in the 37th Hunger Games.

But he's right here. Right in front of me. His foot caught in the poisonous trap that ended his life before.

I glance back. They're still there. The mutts. Half bird, half dog. A sharp, snapping beak. The strong legs of a wolf. Reptilian wings. An abomination.

"Sean," Greg pleads, wracked with sobs, "Please."

And then I'm on my knees, yanking on the trap, prying it apart.

"Kill me," Greg begs, his shoulders shaking, "Kill me."

No. Not again. Never again. He died for me once. It's never happening again.

There. It's done. The trap is open.

But Greg's not moving. He's just standing there, weeping.

"Kill me," He cries, "Please, kill me."

With a cry of rage, I yank his leg from the poisoned snares, tearing my own hand on the sharp spikes, blood dripping from the wound.

The poison enters my system with a blinding, shooting pain. I've never known more pain in my seventeen years. I scream, scream and scream and scream. It hurts so much.

"Greg!" I screech, "Help me! Make it stop!"

But Greg stands stock-still, a sneer spreading slowly across his face. I'm shocked. How could he be so cold, so callous? Another thought hits me, just as I gouge his expression. Why is he not in pain? I slowly turn my gaze down to his ankle, just in time to watch his gaping wound knit itself together, not a single trace of his horrible tear left on his skin.

"Greg!" My wound is oozing now, the yellow puss welling up and out of my hand. "PLEASE!"

He's still jeering at me. I'm terrified. Greg isn't like this.

"It's your fault I died, Sean," He says, "I died for you. Now, you'll die here, instead of me."

"No!" I rasp, "NO!

Then the mutts swelled around Greg and charged for me.

I scream. Scream and scream and scream.

* * *

I jolt upright in bed, still screaming. My flop of golden hair is plastered to my forehead, my sweaty sheets tangled around my legs.

_Deep breath_, I tell myself, _take a deep breath._

"Just a dream," I whisper softly, "Just a dream."

I glance over to see if I woke Trey, and of course his rumpled sheets are empty. He's probably out there getting under some girl's nightgown.

I stagger out of the room I share with Trey, down the dormitory hall. That's another thing about District 1's School for Gifted Students. It's not just for kids who don't want to train for the Games, but for the kids whose parents are too busy to look after them. My dad's too busy being Head Peacekeeper to be my 'Daddy.'

I drag myself into the kitchen. I always eat when I'm upset. Thundering around, I gather all the ingredients for stew. I pull out the cooking ware, rattling all the rest of the pots, and set it on the stove.

Suddenly the door swings open; very violently. I drop the pot, clattering to the floor. Devi's standing there, her hair a rat's nest, in a crinkled t-shirt and pyjama pants. She's glaring at me, her beautiful brown eyes narrowed into slits.

"You know," She snarls, "Some people sleep at this time of night." Then she just lets me have it; how inconsiderate it was to rattle around in the kitchen while people are trying to sleep.

Then she must notice my sweaty forehead, my puffy red eyes, because she softens noticeably.

"You okay?" She asks soothingly.

"Uh, yeah," I say gruffly, clearing my throat.

She smiles, "Nice try. But you're not that good at lying."

I glance guiltily at the pot.

She laughs knowingly, "You eat when you're upset?"

I grunt.

Then she picks up the pot, and makes me chicken noodle soup.

And it's thick and warm and perfect.

She just sits there and watches me eat it.

* * *

"Bad dream?"

I look up. I just wolfed down half the pot, cramming bite after bite into my mouth.

"Whaaa?" I cough out, my mouth stuffed full.

"I _said, _did you have a bad dream?"

I choke down my mouthful.

"Uhh…"

"Oh, spit it out," She demands.

And so I do. After all, this is Devi. Tiny, sweet, musical Devi. I tell her about how my brother volunteered for the 37th Hunger Games, how a Mutt imitated my voice and lured him into the poisonous trap. How he died believing that he couldn't save me.

"I was six," I say hoarsely, my nightmare brought back to life.

And Devi is everything she's supposed to be, and more. It's as if she understands. She's sympathetic and empathetic at the same time.

"So," I croak, "What about you? You know what it's like. What happened to you?"

She bites her lips and looks away. It's so adorable. I grab her chin and turn her head towards me.

"Say," I grin cockily, "How 'bout we go back to my room and … _talk… _about it?"

The next thing I know, she's brained me with her giant metal ladle.

"Hey!" I shout, "What was that for?"

She glares at me.

"Come on," I coo, taking her little hands and fiddling with her long, tapered, pianist fingers, "You must talk some time."

She kicks me in the shin.

"Ow!"

Yanking her hands from mine, she whirls around and storms into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Clearly, I underestimated her.

Oh, well. It was worth a try.

* * *

**So, what do you think?**

**I like Devi's feisty personality, and her sweet compassion.**

**I like Sean's humor.**

**I think that they'd make a great match, once they get to know each other.**

**Well, once Sean gets rid of his habits.**

**Don't worry, he will. **

**Thanks for reading!**

** - Hidden**

**PS. Review? Please?**

**PPS. Could you please check out my other story, ****_The 27th Hunger Games?_**

**PPPS. PLEASE?**


	3. Chapter 3

**_Devi's POV_**

"Aarrrgghh!"

I'm angry.

No one likes an angry Devi.

"Aaaaarrrrgggghh!"

* * *

As I'm stomping around my dorm room, Cirani is patiently listening to me rant.

"How could he do this to me? Does he _know_ the effect he has on me? H-he must! I mean, he's so arrogant all the time, he must think that he can get every girl he wants. Now he's just gonna play me! _Me!_ W-why me?" I burst out.

"Because, silly," Cirani says, "He doesn't know that you're different from every other girl he's played. He just assumes that you're gonna be _easy_."

"W-well, he's just gonna have to th-think again!" I splutter.

"I don't know, bud," She smiles wryly, "Looks like you _are_ having a hard time resisting him."

I hurl a pillow at her. "Rani!" I shriek.

She laughs, tossing it back at me, "I'm just kidding. Seriously, calm down."

She hops down from my piano, where there's supposed to be another bed, but I argued fiercely about my career, and they let me have the whole room. So now the other side in piled with my instruments. Guitar, saxophone, flute, piano, violin, French horn, trombone, tuba, etc. And a whole shelf of books, musical and not.

Rani says I have too much stuff. That I need more normal teenage things, such as makeup.

Ew. Makeup. Wrecks your skin.

* * *

There are two parts of me right now.

One is still screaming at Sean.

The other is lusting after him.

_Snap out of it!_

* * *

I argue with myself through first period. I used to love math, but Mr. Halini makes it so boring. He's a middle-aged, rotund man with a shiny bald head and pudgy hands. He drones on and on, and then gives us thirty pages of homework. He also doesn't use the advanced smartboards the Capitol sends us each year, instead screeching along the blackboard with his flaky white chalk.

"Devi?" He demands.

"Wait-what?"

The rest of the class all laugh at me.

Halini looks exasperated.

"I _said, _what's _"

I drift off again.

"Miss Theroux!"

I blink.

"I'm sorry, what?"

* * *

As I scurry through the halls, dodging gigantic bodies, my petite (as Rani prefers to call it. I just think I'm plain old short) frame flitting trough. I almost get crushed. Smashed against a locker. Ouch.

Rubbing my head, I stagger away from the rusty metal locker, just barely avoiding getting trampled. I walk smack into this giant guy's chest.

"Oh, sorry," I mutter, backing away. But he doesn't let me, instead grabbing me by my shoulders and holding me at arm's length, an amused expression displayed on his face.

I glance up, surprised.

And I recognize that flop of golden hair, those gold-flecked gray eyes. I'd know him anywhere.

Sean. The guy I'd hit with a metal ladle. The one that I'm supposed to be furious at, but just can't manage it.

Argh. Why is he so confusing?

"You okay?" He asks with a cocky grin.

"Fine!" I snarl, suddenly infuriated.

"Are you sure? You look kind of… irritable."

I growl softly, but he seems to hear me.

"Ooh, little Miss Devi is sassy today."

I'm seething. How dare he do this to me? I'm boiling. Argh!

Oh my god. He's touching me, _he's_ _touching me! _

"Something wrong?" He asks wryly.

How dare he touch me, _how dare he!_

"I _said _I'm fine!" I say through gritted teeth, yanking my shoulders from his grip.

"If you say so," He drawls.

I rush down to my next class.

* * *

By the time I plunk my tray of cafeteria slop down next to Rani, I'm as confused as ever. I flop into the stool, nearly toppling off the edge.

"Why must he do this to me?" I almost shout at Rani.

She looks surprised at my sudden outburst.

"What?"

With a sigh, I pour out my little 'incident.' It all comes tumbling out, all the embarrassing details. It's a good thing nobody ever sits with us, the musical geek and the artistic geek, so no one overhears the gory details.

After I finish my tale, Rani opens her mouth to speak.

And before she can, another drab, gray-green cafeteria tray plops down next to me.

I look up. Who wants to sit with the geeks?

Sean. That's who.

"What are you doing here?" I demand.

Before he could speak, a mass of giggling girls descends upon our once peaceful table. Chattering and gossiping, they moon and swoon over him, begging for autographs, a date, showing him their tattoos, which consisted of their names entwined with Sean's, placed inside a heart.

Sean flashes his million watt smile.

And they all melt.

Sheesh.

I get up to leave.

"Come on Rani, let's get out here," I call to her. She gets up, disgust clear on her face.

Sean glances up.

"Where are you going?" He asks, confused.

"Anywhere but here," I shout back.

He looks confused, "But why?"

I growl, "Because I have life to get back to."

A strawberry blonde looks shocked, "But what life doesn't contain Sean Styright?"

"Why don't you find out?" I snarl, "In fact, why don't you all go get an actual life?"

The cafeteria falls silent, everyone looking aghast. Except for the 'nerds,' who never eat here.

Rani and I march straight out.

* * *

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